Realizing Destiny
by EagleStrike1
Summary: Skyrim's planes hold not just dangers and mysteries, but also the stories of the ones that inhabit it. The DragonBorn faces a group of bandits, and learns something profound in the process. (One shot)


Huffing and puffing, the Dragonborn ran across the green landscape, dwarven bow in hand as he plucked another arrow from his quiver. He was a decent shot but taking down a deer while running was no easy task. He dashed towards the ground, snatching up the arrow that had missed his prey. He nocked and let loose, this time hitting the poor animal in its body. The animal let out an anguished cry and fell to the ground, crimson blood smearing some of the flora. He jogged to the dying animal, a small twinge of pity welling inside him. The beautiful beast was kicking and writhing in pain. Quickly, he shot the animal once again, this time through the head. He then set to skin the carcass.

Hours later, he found the Khajit caravan once again. The male Khaijt hailed him, calling him by his name which surprised him. He'd grown accustomed to being called the "DragonBorn" these days and hearing his own name felt strange. He called back, waving the deer hide. Even from this distance, he picked up the greedy smile of the feline trader. Forty gold coins was not a bad price; he'd struck a hard bargain. The trader had been a regular in these roads and he knew him from way back. Satisfied, he returned to his camp in the middle of the woods. Tiny foxes were surveying his small pack of belongings. They scattered as he approached. Adding the gold coins to his coin purse, he lay on the bed roll, nibbling a stale apple pie as his thoughts wandered home. It had been so long since he had last seen his family. He wondered what they were doing, whether they were thinking of him like he was thinking of them.

He woke up at dawn, dew had settled in and his armor was soaked. Stripping to his garments he strung his clothes on a nearby tree branch and set about to prepare breakfast. He had exhausted his food supplies and had to hunt. A small rabbit made for some delicious stew which he ate with delight. With his appetite sated he rolled out a map of the familiar landscape and located his destination. He had been assigned by the companion Aela to clear out a bandit cove. It wasn't a particularly difficult mission, there were ten to fifteen bandits pillaging through this particular landscape. The Whiterun guards were busy with preparations for the Stormcloak invasion and he had decided ultimately that going solo would be much better. A dozen men were no easy task, but he was the DragonBorn.

The revelation had spurred Jarl Balgruuf to cater and provide him with the best combat training possible. The GreyBeards summoned him constantly as they tried to instill as much knowledge of the Thu'um as possible before he faced Alduin . The Companions treated him like a brother and regularly imparted their skills on him. His involvement with the Thieves guild had also taught him some skills. All in all, he had a vast combat experience and was a force to be reckoned with. With careful planning and caution, he could take one a force of such size, provided that he managed to sneak his way through their camp and ambush them in small groups.

After four hours of hiking, he finally reached his destination. It was a large waterfall named Widow's fall. Approximately twenty yards from the waterfall was a discreetly hidden cave. From his height, he could see a single lookout posted outside the entrance. That one had to be silenced first. He took careful aim and watched with grim satisfaction as the arrow penetrated the bandit's throat, he fell to the ground, desperately trying to staunch the blood flow. Quickly, he scaled the rocky cliff and arrived at the cave entrance. Checking to make sure that his armor was well fitted and his weapons were within grasp, he entered the cave, crouching low to minimize line of sight.

A small rivulet flowed inside the cave; a single thug was sitting beside the water, washing what appeared to be blood from his leather armor. A fire was blazing on the other side of the cavern and it illuminated a smaller tunnel. The Dragonborn opted for his Skyforge sword. He snuck up behind the man and dragged the wicked blade across his throat in a swift motion. The man did not have time to make any sound as he fell forward, hands clutching his throat. The water around him turned red but he did not wait to observe what would happen next. Footsteps echoed across the empty chamber and he quickly took shelter behind a large clump of fern as another one of the thugs entered the room from a larger entrance opposite the cave entrance. The man didn't notice the body of his partner and did not bother to check where he had gone as he made his way towards the fire. He never got there though as the Dragonborn sneaked up behind him and drove the blade through his spine. Blood spurted through the bandit's chest as he died.

"What the hell?"

He spun around quickly, a thin blonde Nord woman had spotted him. Her hands flew to her sides and he saw the glint of a glass dagger as the woman looked at him with indecision. _She's a smart one_ , he mused to himself as the woman spun around and ran towards the larger tunnel. He quickly sheathed his sword and ran after her, hoping her partners in crime weren't anywhere near to be alerted by her cries. He caught up with her just as she rounded a bend in the narrow tunnel. His hand quickly clamped her mouth- but not before she managed to raise a sharp cry. He could see that her cry had worked. He snapped her neck and let her body fall. Ahead of him was a smaller chamber, this one full of makeshift beds and bed rolls where several more criminals were seated. They all turned around at his general direction to investigate the noise.

A quick count revealed that he was now facing five heavily armed men and two women. They were raising a din, cries aimed at him along with a couple bows. He was outnumbered, with no choice left he turned heel and ran. He would have made his way outside of the cave had it not been for the two highwaymen that were investigating the body of their two fallen comrades. They turned around as the Dragonborn's chasers made a racket through the tunnels. Dropping to his knees in a practiced move, he whipped his bow and let an arrow loose. It struck the highwayman in the chest and he fell to the floor, dead. The second man quickly raised a banded iron shield and charged towards him. Surrounded on two sides, the Dragonborn ran inside the smaller tunnel, no clue as to where it led.

A quick idea struck him and he summoned his Magicka reserve. He cast a fire rune on the floor of the narrow tunnel and exited it. He had reached the storeroom. Large iron chests and tables laden with fat purses of coin stood throughout the hollow cave. Like a maze, there were several other tunnels that ran throughout the room. He jumped downwards, landing on a table that collapsed under his weight. Gold coins spilled across the floor and he quickly pocketed a coin purse that looked intact. Above him, he heard the fire rune set off as a fiery blaze illuminated the cave briefly, followed by the howls of a man. The man ran blindly, set on fire and in his panic ran through the edge, landing behind him. His yells of pain stopped instantly on impact. The man was either unconscious or dead. He did not have time to wait as more voices filled the air, the scent of burning flesh strong. He still had to face seven of them. A straight combat would mean death for sure. Ambush was his only option now. Choosing the tunnel that looked the darkest he ran inside, a steel arrow barely missing him.

Bad luck seemed to be plaguing him today, the tunnel ended as an exit from the cave, he arrived at a grassy field. But the field was in fact a large cliff. There was no way to climb down. Realizing that he was truly boxed in, he unsheathed his sword. The sound of his pursuers filled the tunnel soon enough and they spilled out, shiny steel armor glinting in the sunlight. They all looked at him, understanding that they were at an advantage. The Dragonborn pretended to reach for his dagger, and shot a firebolt at the bandits, two of the ones in the line of fire dodged, the third wasn't so lucky. He was blasted backwards, the sound of fire hitting steel created a hollow sound as he lay unconscious. Six more to go; and they came at him. Two of them knew weak magic, but he deflected their feeble spells with wards. Two of them flanked him, one with a great-sword the other with an orcish dagger. He dodged the dagger, ducking low and blocked the great-sword, the swordsman staggering backwards as he closed the distance between them and plunged his sword into the man's abdomen. Instinct forced him to duck to his knees as an arrow struck the swordsman, right where his back had been a second ago. He rolled to the right and swerved, just in time to deflect a blow from the dagger. His opponent recovered quickly and slashed his right arm. He let out a sharp cry of pain as blood flowed freely. Bolstered by the sight of him in his knees, his latest foe tried to land another lucky shot. He let go of his sword and caught the arm of his attacker, the dagger inches from his face. Applying pressure to his wrists, he snapped the dagger wielding arm. His attacker, who turned out to be a woman elicited a sharp cry of pain through her steel plate helmet. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that another one of them was now charging towards him. Quickly he let go of the broken wrist and his attacker dropped to her knees, he drove his sword through her, meeting no resistance whatsoever.

Four more to go. The other three followed swift as he realized that is latest attacker was the bandit leader. He bellowed orders to them and the Dragonborn knew that he was now extremely vulnerable. He was surrounded by four men and women. They circled him like vultures and tried to break his defense. He tried to keep all of them in his sight but it was impossible. So he compromised by watching the shadows of those behind him. The chief swung his battleaxe at him, he jumped backwards but the large weapon caught his belt strap, the dagger fell along with its sheath. Like a single machine, his four attackers encircled him once again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow move behind him. He hunched and swerved to his right as his attacker's mace hit the ground. He used the opening to strike the man's exposed leg, sweeping it outwards. He yelled in pain and fell backwards, landing heavily on his back. With a vicious strike, he lodged his sword in the man's chest. Three remained; the bandit chief, a man and a redguard woman. If he felt fear, the bandit chief did not show. The other two weren't so good at hiding their fear. Their attacks were now borne out of fear. They were savage, energy draining strikes and he dodged them easily. He sidestepped and opened the throat of the woman, the man tried to run and he thrust his sword through his spine.

At last, it was the bandit chief that remained. He knew instantly that this man was an accomplished warrior. He was a large man, armored heavily but he still wielded the battleaxe with ease. And they battled. Surrounded by corpses they battled with outstanding skill. The bandit was large and powerful, the Dragonborn quick and light. There was no apparent winner and it was slowly on dawning on the Dragonborn that this was not a mere bandit. In between a dodge, he called out.

"Were you a soldier? You sure fight like one."

The bandit grunted but did not utter a clear word. He swung at him and he danced away, causing the man to yell in frustration. He was leading the man towards the end of the cliff, hoping to trip him up.

He tried to jab him with the sword, and regretted his decision instantly as the thug caught the blade under his axe and wrenched it towards himself, disarming him effectively. Now he was truly in trouble. He dodged a vicious swing of the axe and rolled forward, trying to reach his sword. He caught the blade but the axe was swinging towards him again. He barely raised the blade and it was wrenched away from his hands, falling off the cliff. He himself stumbled on the uneven terrain, falling backwards.

His attacker grinned evilly and brought the axe downwards, narrowly missing him as he rolled. He tried to kick the man's feet hoping to trip him up. But the man seemed to have predicted this and moved his feet out of his reach.

This was it. He knew instantly that if he stayed quiet he would be dead. He could see the man winding the giant axe once more. Commanding his tingling nerves to stay calm, he tapped into his Thu'um. The power of the ancient nord art seemed to swell inside him as he sought for Unrelenting Force. He pictured the words in his head and started saying them out loud.

 **FUS**

 _He felt energy run through his body, filling every part of him with a glorious feeling of light._

 **RO**

 _He and his attacker heard his voice warp into an otherworldly tone as a massive pressure built up on his chest, threatening to burst through his body._

 **DA**

 _It felt like a massive weight had been lifted off of him as the terrifying power of the Thu'um gushed out of his body. His body felt drained of every bit of energy and his muscles seemed to have stopped working. This was a temporary aftereffect, it would pass in seconds._

Somewhere above him the Dragonborn heard a crack of thunder as the Force of his Thu'um rushed forward, unrelenting and unforgiving. His voice seemed to have magnified a hundred times over as the valley rung with the combined weight of a full Dragon shout. The force caught his attacker in the chest and he registered a look of surprise on the man's face briefly. The bandit chief was flung backwards, his body rising at least 10 feet into the air as he sailed helplessly through the air. His body landed with a heavy thud and rolled like a ragdoll.

The Dragonborn got up slowly as energy returned to his muscles. He walked up to the man. His leg was stuck at an odd angle and his face was bloodied. He had won. He looked down at the man.

"Who are you?"

The criminal closed his eyes and reopened them, pain ringing through them.

"I was a Captain in the Imperial legion. I fought against the Aldmeri Dominion during the great war."

The Dragonborn crouched beside the man. He asked,

"So why did you become a bandit? Why didn't you stay loyal to the empire and live an honorable life?"

At this the dying man spat at him. He chuckled amidst gasps of pain.

"Honor? Is that what drives you? Stand in a field full of corpses of your friends and comrades and I want you to consider what honor yields."

The Dragonborn looked at him, confused. The bandit chief continued.

"I was following the orders of an inexperienced superior officer, some son of a highborn General. He ordered me and my men to march through a tactically vulnerable strip of land. It was a Thalmor ambush, just like I had warned the superior officer. We were slaughtered. They rained down arrows and fire on us, taking us out one by one. I watched my best friends die, so many innocent lives lost because I followed the orders of a stupid kid. I barely survived the ambush and made my way out of the bloodbath. I found the superior officer a day later, calmly drinking ale with his men, safe and sound in an Imperial camp. I killed him, then and there and decided that my life as an honorable soldier was over. Bounties were put up on my head but I survived, found my way across Skyrim and made my home here."

Reciting his story had taken its toll on his already dwindling energy. But he continued.

"You may kill me now, Dragonborn- _yes_ I know who you are" He commented at the surprised look on the DragonBorn's face "you can kill me but know that I don't regret my decisions. I saw the world and its injustices and decided to adapt, instead of fighting it. I have lived my life with freedom. Can you claim the same?"

And with that he died. The man's words struck him deeply. He closed the man's eyelids and said a prayer for him.

* * *

Two days later, he was in Whiterun, A soldier spotted him immediately and ran towards him, no doubt carrying a message from Jarl Balgruuf. He was right- the Jarl demanded his presence in an important matter.

As he walked up to Dragonsreach, one thing was for sure. He would not let other men shape his destiny. Alduin had to be destroyed and he would see through to the task, but he would no longer be a puppet in the civil war. With that thought in his mind, the Dragonborn entered the palace, feeling like a free man for the first time. He preferred the wilds of Skyrim and the stories they contained much more.


End file.
